


Push up to my body sink your teeth into my flesh

by smaragdbird



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bent over a table and fucked from behind, Bickering, Clothed/Naked, Dancing as Foreplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Manhandling/Shows of Athleticism During Sex, Marking - Hickeys/Bite Marks, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: Stentor and his men perform a war dance for a Spartan festival, telling the ancient story of Sparta's victory over MesseniaAlexios is watching and rewards Stentor for his performance afterwards
Relationships: Alexios/Stentor (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Push up to my body sink your teeth into my flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greygerbil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/gifts).



It was a great honour to be selected to dance on the last day of the Gymnopaedia and once their selection had been made, Stentor and his men had trained carefully for this day. Even during the previous nine days of eating, drinking and merriment, they had found the time to train, turning their drills into something more graceful and fit for the gods.

“Lysander won’t know what hit him”, Dienekes, his second in command, claimed to encourage the men.

Murmured agreement came from the other men, all of them impatient to finally show their skills. 

The dance was meant to emulate the battle between Sparta and Messenia and as the more successful polemarch during the war with Athens, Stentor and his men had been chosen to represent Sparta while Lysander would lead the Messenians.

Truth to be told, Lysander was not the only one Stentor wanted to impress.

A war horn echoed over the polis and it was time, finally. He tried not to glance at the crowd as he and his men took their positions but the temptation was great. Then Lysander’s glare met his across the agora and all distractions were forgotten.

The horn echoed a second time, followed by the voices of Stentor’s men, declaring war on Messenia as one. They moved in unison, unperturbed by the Messenians’ cry, and Stentor at their helm. The words were familiar – drills they had all followed since childhood, and the movements, while different, were ingrained in them.

There was no Spartan soldier.

There was only Sparta.

They moved as one, breathed as one, cried as one. Stentor moved ahead, each step bring the two groups closer together, and when he took a step, so did his men. They echoed his declaration of war and victory over the Messenians as if they had only one voice.

The sun beat down on them but they didn’t blink.

The Messenians taunted them but they didn’t acknowledge them.

The stone was hot under their bare feet, but they didn’t flinch.

Finally, their groups mingled, each carefully place so the crowd could watch the single combat of each pair. This was a dance, not a history lesson or they would’ve never broken the phalanx.

Across from him, Lysander grinned, baring his teeth. 

Stentor met his gaze with a stoic expression. Lysander had barely bested him in the agoge and he had nothing on the man Stentor was sparring with these days. The man he hoped was watching.

As their leaders, they were positioned the closest to the crowd, theirs was the most important fight. The set was a stage but the fights were going to be real. If Messenia won over Sparta, it’d be a disgrace.

The war horn echoed and the fights started.

/

Part of Alexios was surprised to see how much Sparta transformed during the festivals. He only had vague memories about attending them as a child but his mother and father had both promised him a spectacle beyond anything eh had ever seen in Athens.

They were right.

The music, the food and wine, men and women intermingling freely and competing against each other or together – it seemed Spartans took their enjoyment as seriously as their training.

Festivities lasted until late at night and started early in the morning again, leaving people no choice but to cure their hangovers with more wine.

Stentor had been more reserved but Alexios knew he had been chosen to represent Sparta on the last day of the Gymnopaedia, the grand finale, the Messenian War.

After nine days of witnessing all sorts of dances, Alexios wondered what made this one so special that Stentor had gone to train with his men during the festivities.

Now he knew.

Most sports, including dances, were performed in the nude in Sparta and while distracting at first, Alexios had gotten used to it quickly. He should invite Alkibiades next year, he’d be delighted.

This was something entirely different.

The movements of the drills had been exaggerated for the dance, but the energy rolling off of the two groups – one could forget entirely that they were neither armed nor dressed. 

Alexios was no stranger to seeing Stentor naked but this display of martial prowess and intense focus had him shift in his seat to hide his arousal. He moved quick and decisive, and his men followed as if they were one.

The sun was standing high in the sky and Alexios could see the sweat roll off Stentor’s skin that was glistening with oil. He stood there, stone-faced in the face of Lysander taunting him and Alexios knew how that felt. Part of him wanted to be in Lysander’s place, to meet Stentor strike for strike until he took him down, wrestling him to the ground and – Alexios wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control himself. Normal sparring was already a temptation.

Stentor could’ve taken Lysander out quickly but Alexios noticed that he drew it out to give the crowd a good show. Most of his men did, playing with the opposing force like cats with mice. Stentor and Lysander were the closest to the edge of the stage and Alexios could see every muscle of his strong legs, his back, his arms as he pushed Lysander to the ground and kept him there.

The horn echoed and an ephor declared that Sparta had been victorious to the roaring approval of the crowd. Stentor offered a hand to Lysander and helped him back to his feet, much more relaxed now that the dance was over.

His eyes met Alexios’ who couldn’t take it anymore. With mumbled apologies to his parents, he vacated his seat, knowing where he’d find Stentor in a few minutes.

/

Their house was close enough to the agora that Stentor could excuse himself to clean up there. His men had not disappointed and now they could enjoy the last day of the Gymnopaedia without holding back.

The house was quiet, even servants were allowed to take part in the festivities, but a bowl of water and a strigil to clean his skin had been left out for him in the courtyard. He hadn’t noticed Alexios following him but that was no surprise so he didn’t flinch when a hand closed around his wrist, making him drop the strigil, and the other arm wrapped round his waist as a body pressed against his back.

“Unhand me”, he hissed but Alexios paid no attention to his words and Stentor didn’t help by pushing into his touch, not away from him. He had hoped for this after all. Alexios’ chiton felt rough against his bare back and his arousal was hard against Stentor’s arse.

“I saw you”, Alexios said in between licking up the sweat that had gathered int the hollow of Stentor’s throat and the base of his neck. A tongue, followed by teeth, followed by the bright sting of a mark left behind. 

Stentor gasped and it echoed around the quiet courtyard.

“Don’t worry”, Alexios said, nipping at a scar on Stentor’s shoulder. “Everyone’s in the agora.” His left hand wrapped around Stentor’s cock while the right one let go of his wrist to pinch on of his nipples instead. 

“I’m not worried”, Stentor snapped, despite being so. If anyone caught them like this…

“Guess I have no reason not to do this then”, Alexios replied and before Stentor could ask what he meant, Alexios went down on his knees behind him. He spread Stentor’s cheeks with both hands, leaving him to clench his hole in embarrassment. They had never done this out in the open where anyone could walk in on them, the servants, their parents…

Stentor’s thoughts were cut short when Alexios licked across his hole, though he had the forethought to brace himself against the table with one hand while slapping the other across his mouth.

“You feel a bit tense”, Alexios teased, kneading his cheeks with both hands. He licked again, a broad stripe that seemed to set Stentor’s nerves on fire. He repeated it once more before thrusting his tongue inside. 

Stentor bend down to rest on his elbows so he could use both hands to silence himself. He would not let Alexios best him so easily. Years of living in close quarters had taught him to be quiet. Just because Alexios was more talented than any of the men Stentor had shared the bed with before, didn’t mean he’d give in just yet.

The tongue inside him moved along his rim, sending sparks to his belly, his cock and then there was a finger there, too, the intrusion familiar but no less arousing. Stentor breathed heavily through his nose, trying his keep his mouth shut.

There was a second finger now, curling inside him and scissoring him open as Alexios’ mouth moved lower, tonguing his balls and then thin, sensitive strip of skin in between.

This was surely some kind of torture, the sensations so strong and yet Stentor could not give in, not when they were outside, when they could be caught so easily.

He moaned behind his hands as Alexios went back to his feet but pushed a third finger inside, the motion pressing at something deep inside him that let lightning appear in front of his eyes. He was now truly bend across the table, his knees so weak he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand.

Alexios plastered himself across his back, pushing his fingers deeper inside while his other hand lightly caressed Stentor’s chest and stomach, drawing circles over his skin. 

“They all wanted you”, Alexios whispered in his ear. “I could see it in their eyes as they watched you. I could smell it on them. But you’re mine.” His fingers dug into Stentor’s skin at the last words as if to stake his claim while the ones inside him, stretched outwards a meagre approximation for the girth of Alexios’ cock. Stentor pushed back against them anyway because he loved being filled in whatever way, loved the stretch and burn and the fullness.

Again Stentor felt the bright sting of pain on his neck as Alexios left yet another mark, something his syssitias would no doubt tease him for. Alexios’ own cock was training hard against Stentor’s thigh where it had slipped from under his chiton and Stentor shifted his stance and angle his leg so that the friction increased.

“Fuck”, Alexios cursed, humping his leg for a moment before he withdrew. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Stentor rolled his eyes but Alexios was back as quickly as he had left.

“You’re an image for the amphoras”, he said from behind Stentor, gripping his hips with slick hands as his cock pushed against Stentor’s hole. In length and girth of his cock, Alexios had truly been blessed by the gods. Not that Stentor had submitted to many men but none of them had ever filled him like Alexios did. 

He moaned, keened almost behind closed lips and gritted teeth as Alexios sunk into him. Spartans were no poets but he doubted that there were any words to describe how perfectly Alexios felt inside him. He was skewered wide and helpless on Alexios’ cock that was deep enough inside him that with each thrust he brushed the spot that made Stentor see stars.

The urge to cry out, to spur Alexios on built up inside him with a chaotic crescendo but Stentor set his teeth against it, unwilling to lose in a battle without stakes. He’d have bruises later where Alexios gripped his hips tightly, pulling Stentor back on his cock as much as he was pushing into him. He could hear Alexios’ harsh breathing in his ear, feel his erratic thrusts and knew he was close.

Stentor clenched down around him as tightly as he could, relishing in the fire banking up his nerves as he did so, but even more in the noises Alexios made while he stayed quiet. If they got caught it wouldn’t be Stentor’s fault.

It was enough to send him over the edge as well, spurting his release over the table as Alexios filled him with seed and then collapsed on his back. It took him little time to recover but instead of moving he started to nuzzle Stentor’s shoulder again, his bread scraping against his overheated and sensitive skin.

“How’s that for a victory celebration?” He asked, his voice low and rough. He was still hard inside of Stentor, not unusual for him.

“Get off me”, Stentor replied with less vitriol than he usually would’ve. 

For once Alexios did as he was told, though him pulling out of Stentor left him feel empty and wanting. He got to his feet, found that his knees were holding him up after all, and felt Alexios’ seed drip out of him, smearing his thighs.

Alexios seemed to notice it too going by the hungry look he cast there. “Think that famous Spartan stamina is good enough for another round.”

“Only if you get out of that and come inside”, Stentor replied. Alexios looked ridiculous with his hard cock standing proudly while still dressed in an oil-stained chiton.

With one hand, Alexios pulled the chiton over his head while pulling Stentor against him with the other, kissing him as soon as he was free of the garment. 

“More order, polemarch?” He murmured against Stentor’s lips and suddenly hoisted him up with Stentor instinctively wrapping his legs around Alexios’ waist. 

“Plenty”, Stentor replied, feeling Alexios’ cock nudge between his cheeks. “For inside, unless you want me to ride you on the stone floor.”

“I don’t know, a sacrifice directly under Apollo’s heated gaze seems appropriate during a festival in his honour.”

“Inside”, Stentor repeated. “Unless you don’t think you can manage to get me there.”

“Are you doubting my stamina?”

“I am. What are you going to do about it?”

A slow, wicked smile spread over Alexios’ face that did something treacherous to Stentor’s inside. “I am going to ruin you for any other men, even the gods themselves.”

As if he hadn’t already.


End file.
